Room 317, All day Wednesday

[notmyownage]

Claudia wasn't getting out of bed today for love or money. She felt like death warmed over. Like even more death even more warmed over than when she was having her life slowly drained out of her by her connection to her brother's failed attempt at teleportation, and that was hard to do. Maybe she'd managed to electrocute herself a little while playing with the rock, after all.

So, since she'd clearly managed to catch creepy Massachusetts death flu or something, she decided she deserved to have a day of lying in bed.

Then she noticed the spots where her skin was going thick, gray, and scaly. Within minutes, she was calling Artie -- while still lying in a little cocoon of blankets hidden away from the world at large. So, you know, naturally she got his answering machine. Not even voicemail, an answering machine. It was like Artie was from the stone age.

"Hey, Artie, it's me. Do you know of an artifact out there that inflicts the heartbreak of psoriasis on people?"

Blame it on an artifact. The Warehouse's own Occam's razor.

[ooc: Door is closed, but the post is open!]

Comments

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

Scowling, Scully slid out of bed, landing on her butt on the floor and reaching for her slippers.

"Are you drinking fluids?" It all felt far away and kind of academic, but Scully's drilled-in training was still rising to the fore. "We're both sick."

That meant something. Give her a minute. She'd figure it out.

[notmyownage]

"I'm made of fluids," Claudia pointed out. "Thick, juicy fluids."

That shouldn't have come out the way it did.

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"We are," Scully said, struck by this. Also, distantly thinking she should be unnerved. "We're 80% water. Or 90%. I need to look that up again."

She couldn't find her bathrobe, but hey, that blanket was fine. She kept talking on the phone as she opened the door. Look, a bottle of aspirin! That fixed everything. She'd take it to Claudia.

"My fingers are... funky." For values of funky that equaled vaguely reptilian.

[notmyownage]

"I can't see mine."

Yes, honey, this is because you're crouching under your covers with your eyes closed.

"I hate being sick."

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"I don't usually get sick," Scully pouted, dragging herself down the hallway, blanket over her shoulders. "Wait. Did your fingers turn invisible?"

It could happen!

[notmyownage]

"I don't know, I can't see 'em."

Duh.

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"You're blind?!" Scully turned to clomp up the stairs, and said thoughtfully, "If you're blind you wouldn't know if you were turning invisible."

[notmyownage]

"You're making my head hurt. Makes sense, since you clearly gave me the Massachusetts death flu."

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"I did not!" Scully protested, stumbling down the hall, peering at door numbers, and trying to remember through the fuzziness in her head which one was Claudia's. "You gave it to me! If it is even Massachusetts Death Flu! And not a short-lived virus of uncertain origin!"

[notmyownage]

"It's death flu. And you're older so it's your fault."

Or something.

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"You're younger so your immune system should fight it off. Nyah." Scully pounded weakly at Claudia's door with her hardened hands, then scowled. "Open up. Aspirin."

[notmyownage]

"What did you call me?" See above, re: not getting out of bed for love or money. "Open it up yourself."

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

Scully more fell into it, and then the floor, than opened it.

"Ha!"

[notmyownage]

Claudia poked her head out from under the covers.

"Hi."

Yeah, she was still talking into the phone.

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"Hey." Scully was talking into hers. From the floor. She threw the aspirin overhand so it would land on the bed. "Pills. They're good for you."

[notmyownage]

"Meh," Claudia said. "That's just what they want you to think."

Why hello there, random paranoia.

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"They who?" Scully said, not getting up, shutting the door, or looking up. She was examining her own fingers now. The knuckles were looking particularly huge and crone-like.

[notmyownage]

"Them," said Claudia darkly.

Mostly, she just didn't feel like agreeing with anything anyone said right now.

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

Scully grunted, rolled over, and crawled to the edge of the bed, sitting against it, and waving an arm. "This Death Flu is not pretty. But at least it's not prematurely aging."

Ugh, Norwegian shipwrecks.

[notmyownage]

"You're prematurely aging."

Yeah, that didn't make any sense on any level.

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"You're immature," Scully said very maturely. She glared upward, and then said, "I need your blood."

[notmyownage]

Claudia peered out from under the covers again, only her eyes visible. "Why? Are you a vampire?"

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"Nooooo." Duh. "Even if Kate did try to bite me... I have to compare it to mine. Tomorrow. At the clinic. See if it's the same Massachusetts Death Flu. AND maybe which one of us gave it to the other." Ha! There you go? "Hmm. Needles. And beakers."

[notmyownage]

Claudia yanked her covers down.

"You're totally a vampire."

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"Do I look like a vampire?" Scully demanded, pulling her lips back from her teeth. They weren't pointed. Yet. "I'm not a vampire! Maybe a zombie, though." She really was getting hungry.

[notmyownage]

"Braaaaains," agreed Claudia from under her covers.

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"Eat," Scully blurted, then paused.

"...right. That was unnerving."

[notmyownage]

Claudia peered out again. "I think the Massachusetts death flu is affecting your brain."

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

"Possibly. Maybe," Scully allowed, then reached up to grab the bottle of aspirin, and dry-swallow about six at once. "I could be hallucinating. Like you would on gremlin venom."

Mmm. Gremlin. She wondered how those would taste.

[notmyownage]

"You might have gremlin poisoning," Claudia agreed. "Or poison gremlins."